Zion Warriors: The Unholy Order of the Tree
by The Writer0214
Summary: "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood but against powers, against principalities..." Please read and review?
1. An Introduction

**Zion Warriors**

"For we wrestle not against flesh and blood…"

**Zion Warriors –** a band of spiritual warriors under Michael's command sworn to thwart demonic activity.

**The Unholy Order of the Tree – **refers to the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil mentioned in Genesis. A band of demons under Lucifer who seek to penetrate the Church.

**Host – **the body that either a demon or an angel inhabits or possesses.

**Characters**

**Heroes:**

**Pastor Phil "Uncle Phil" Boggs –** youth pastor at Oldwood Village Church, Vermont. Angel Michael's "host."

Esther Vale – niece of Rev. Langston Parker; the Yellow/Gold Zion Warrior's alter-ego.

**Peter Stevens – **one of the youth workers/leaders at Oldwood Village Church; the Black Zion Warrior's alter-ego, second-in-command to Michael.

**Edmund Prince** – Peter's cousin; the Red Zion Warrior's alter-ego.

**Jesse Parker** – Esther's cousin; son of Reverend Parker; the White Zion Warrior's alter-ego.

**Charles "J.F." Chase** – one of the leaders of Oldwood Village Church's youth group; the Green Zion Warrior's alter-ego; third-in-command after Peter.

**Villains****:**

**Lucifer/Satan (Satanicus)**

**Beelzebub (Belial)**

**Apollyon (Abaddon)**

**Mephistopheles (Mephisto)**

**Devilicus**

**Diabolicus – **brother of Devilicus

**Supporting Characters****:**

**Rev. Langston Parker** – Jesse's dad; senior pastor of Oldwood Village Church, Oldwood, Vermont.

**Lisa Parker – **Jesse's mom; is unaware of her son's other identity.

**Candace Boggs – **Phil's wife; Lisa Parker's closest friend; is like a second mother to Jesse.

**Christina Nelson – **Jesse's crush and best friend; knows all about his secret and will bring it with her to the grave. Jesse says she's the Chloe Sullivan to his Clark Kent.

**Ulysses Vale –** Jesse's uncle, brother of Lisa Parker, father of Esther Vale; he is secretly Beelzebub's host; critical of Rev. Parker and Jesse's work in the church

**Edward Prince **– Edmund's younger brother; looks up to him, knows all about his alter-ego.

**Joseph Prince –** Edmund and Edward's 4-year-old little brother; looks up to both Edmund and his alter-ego, the Red Zion Warrior; unaware of Edmund's connection with the Red Zion Warrior.

**Romeo Chase Sr. – **J.F.'s dad; an elder at Oldwood Village Church; secretly Apollyon's host; disapproves of J.F.'s involvement with the Zion Warriors; like Ulysses, he is critical of Rev. Parker and Jesse's work.

**Romeo "J.R." Chase Jr. –** J.F.'s half-brother; one of the leaders of Oldwood Village Church's youth group; is envious of his brother and of Peter, thinking himself to be the better leader; later backslides and allows himself to become Devilicus' host.

**Alfred "Red" Chase –** J.F.'s half-brother; stagnant in his walk with God, becoming easy prey to Diabolicus and becoming his host; originally wanted to be a Zion Warrior.

**Ronald "R.J." Chase – **J.F.'s only full brother; is unaware of his brothers' secrets.

**Dianna Chase –** Romeo Chase Sr.'s wife; mother of J.R. and Red; is critical of the Parker family's work/ministry.

**Pastor Gene Jones –** one of the elders at Oldwood Village Church; one of Jesse's closest friends whom he also considers a mentor; an old man in his 60s that Jesse engages in philosophical and theological discussions with; is unaware of Jesse's secret.

**Aurora Jones –** Pastor Gene's wife.

**Dave Pearce –** one of the youth leaders of the church; also the church custodian and lights and sounds technician; one of Jesse's closest friends; is also unaware of Jesse's secret.

**Rev. Jerry Montgomery – **Rev. Parker's predecessor; Lucifer's host.

**Haley – **a roommate of Jesse's ex-girlfriend; Mephistopheles' host; bisexual and an atheist, not a member of Oldwood Village Church.


	2. A Line Drawn Through the Ages

**Author's Notes:** I wanted to set the stage for my "drama" and here it is. What better place to start than at the very beginning when the first man fell and ending at the cross? I wanted to show the spiritual battle that's been going on since time immemorial and the "line that's been drawn through the ages" because of the war Satan has waged so I fictionalized it. I hope you don't mind. This isn't mine, by the way. I just read this somewhere.

**PROLOGUE**

**A Line That's Been Drawn Through the Ages**

_Flames leap from the hill. Pillows of smoke float upward. Orange tongues crack and pop._

_From the midst of the blaze comes a yell—the protest of a prisoner as the dungeon door is locked; the roar of a lion as he feels the heat of the burning jungle._

_The cry of a lost son as he looks for his father._

"_My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"_

_The words ricochet from star to star, crashing into the chamber of the King. Couriers from a bloody battlefield, they stumble into the King's presence. Bruised and broken, they plea for help, for relief._

_The soldiers of the King prepare to attack. They mount their steeds and position their shields. They draw their swords._

_But the King is silent. It is the hour for which he has planned. He knows his course of action. He has awaited those words since the beginning—since the first poison was smuggled into the kingdom._

_It came camouflaged. It came in a golden cup with a long stem. It was in the flavor of a fruit. It came, not in the hands of a king, but the hands of a prince—the prince of the shadows._

_Until this moment there had been no reason to hide in the Garden. The King walked with his children and the children knew their King. There were no secrets. There were no shadows._

_Then the prince of shadows entered the Garden. He had to hide himself. He was too ugly, too repulsive. Craters marred his face. So he came in darkness. He came encircled in ebony. He was completely hidden; only his voice could be heard._

"_Taste it," he whispered, holding the goblet before her. "It's sweet with wisdom."_

_The daughter heard the voice and turned. She was intrigued. Her eyes had never seen a shadow. There was something tantalizing about his hiddeness._

_The King watched. His army knew the prince of shadows would be no contest for their mighty legion. Eagerly, they awaited the command to attack._

_But no command was given._

"_The choice is hers," the King instructed. "If she turns to us for help, that is your command to deliver her. If she doesn't turn, if she doesn't look to me—don't go. The choice is hers."_

_The daughter stared at the goblet. Rubies imbedded in gold filigree invited her touch. Wine wooed her to taste. She reached out and took the cup and drank the poison. Her eyes never looked up._

_The venom rushed through her, distorting her vision, scarring her skin, and twisting her heart. She ducked into the shadow of the prince._

_Suddenly, she was lonely. She missed the intimacy she was made to know. Yet rather than return to the King, she chose to lure another away from him. She replenished the goblet and offered it to the son._

_Once again the army snapped into position. Once again they listened for the command of the King. His words were the same. "If he looks to me, then rush to him. If he doesn't, then don't go. The choice is his."_

_The daughter placed the goblet into the hands of the son. "It's alright," she assured. "It's sweet." The son looked at the delight that danced in her eyes. Behind her stood a silhouetted figure._

"_Who is he?" the son asked._

"_Drink it," she insisted. Her voice was husky with desire._

_The goblet was cold against Adam's lips. The liquid burned his innocence. "More?" he requested as he ran his finger through the dregs on the bottom and put it to his mouth._

_The soldiers looked to their King for instructions. His eyes were moist. _

"_Bring me your sword!"_

_The general dismounted and stepped quickly toward the throne. He extended the unsheathed blade before the King._

_The King didn't take it, he merely touched it. As the tip of his finger encountered the top of the sword, the iron grew orange with heat. It grew brighter and brighter until it blazed._

_The general held the fiery sword and awaited the King's command. It came in the form of an edict._

"_Their choice will be honored. Where there is poison, there will be death. Where there are goblets, there will be fire. Let it be done."_

_The general galloped to the Garden and took his post at the gate. The flaming sword proclaimed that the kingdom of light would never again be darkened by the passing of shadows. The King hated the shadows. He hated them because in the shadows the children could not see their King. The King hated the goblets. He hated them because they made the children forget the Father._

_But outside the Garden, the circle of the shadow grew larger and more empty goblets littered the ground. More faces were disfigured. More eyes saw distortedly. More souls were twisted. Purity was forgotten and all sight of the King was lost. No one remembered that once there was a kingdom without shadows._

_In their hands were the goblets of selfishness._

_On their lips was the litany of the liar. "Taste it, it's sweet."_

_And, true to the words of the King, where there was poison, there was death. Where there were goblets, there was fire. Until the day the King sent his Prince._

_The same fire that ignited the sword now lit a candle and placed it amidst the shadows._

_His arrival, like that of the goblet-bearer, did not go unnoticed._

"_A star!" was how his coming was announced. "A bright light in the dark sky." A diamond glittering in the dirt._

"_Burn brightly, my Son," whispered the King._

_Many times the Prince of Light was offered the goblet. Many times it came in the hands of those who'd abandoned the King. "Just a taste, my friend?" With anguish, Jesus would look into the eyes of those who tried to tempt him. What is this poison that would make a prisoner try to kill the one who tried to release him?_

_The goblet still bore the seductive flavor of promised power and pleasure. But to the Son of Light its odor was vile. The very sight of the goblet so angered the Prince that he knocked it out of the hand of the tempter, leaving the two alone, locked in an intense glare._

"_I will taste the poison," swore the King's Son. "For this I have come. But the hour will be mine to choose."_

_Finally, that hour came. The Son went for one last visit with his Father. He met Him in another garden. A garden of gnarled trees and stony soil._

"_Does it have to be this way?"_

"_It does."_

"_Is there no one else who can do it?"_

_The King swallowed. "None but you."_

"_Do I have to drink from the cup?"_

"_Yes, my Child. The same cup."_

_He looked at the Prince of Light. "The darkness will be great." He passed his hand over the spotless face of his Son. "The pain will be awful."_

_Then he paused and looked at his darkened dominion. When he looked up, his eyes were moist._

"_But there is no other way."_

_The Son looked into the stars as he heard the answer. "Then, let it be done."_

_Slowly, the words that would kill the Son began to come from the lips of the Father._

"_Hour of death, moment of sacrifice, it is your moment. Rehearsed a million times on false altars with false lambs; the moment of truth has come._

"_Soldiers, you think you lead him? Ropes, you think you bind him? Men, you think you sentence him? He heeds not your commands. He winces not at your lashes. It is _my_ voice he obeys. It is _my_ condemnation he dreads. And it is your souls he saves._

"_Oh, my Son, my Child. Look up into the heavens and see my face before I turn it. Hear my voice before I silence it. Would that I could save you and them. But they don't see and they don't hear._

"_The living must die so that the dying can live. The time has come to kill the Lamb._

"_Here is the cup, my Son. The cup of sorrows. The cup of sin._

"_Slam, mallet! Be true to your task. Let your ring be heard throughout the heavens._

"_Lift him, soldiers. Lift him high to his throne of mercy. Lift him up to his high perch of death. Lift him above the people that curse his name._

"_Now plunge the tree into the earth. Plunge it deep into the heart of humanity. Deep into the strata of time past. Deep into the seeds of time future._

"_Is there no angel to save my Isaac? Is there no hand to redeem the Redeemer?_

"_Here is the cup, my Son. Drink it alone."_

_Every lie, every lure, every act done in shadows was in that cup. Slowly, hideously they were absorbed into the body of the Son. The final act of incarnation._

_The Spotless Lamb was blemished. Flames began to lick his feet._

_The King obeys his own edict. "Where there is poison, there will be death. Where there are goblets, there will be fire."_

_The King turns away from his Prince. The undiluted wrath of a sin-hating Father falls upon his sin-filled Son. The fire envelops him. The shadow hides him. The Son looks for his Father, but his Father cannot be seen._

"_My God, my God . . . why?"_

-oOo-

_The throne room is dark and cavernous. The eyes of the King are closed. He is resting._

_In his dream he is again in the Garden. The cool of the evening floats across the river as the three walk. They speak of the Garden—of how it is, of how it will be._

"_Father . . .", the Son begins. The King replays the word again. Father. Father. The word was a flower, petal-delicate yet so easily crushed. Oh, how he longed for his children to call him _Father_ again._

_A noise snaps him from his dream. He opens his eyes and sees a transcendent figure gleaming in the doorway. "It is finished, Father. I have come home."_


	3. And These Shall Be Our Apple Tree

**EPISODE (CHAPTER) 1**

**And These Shall Be Our Apple Tree**

**Author's Note/Disclaimer:** I was surprised to find out that it was from Max Lucado. I saw it online on some site somewhere; unfortunately, the guy didn't properly name his source. My bad. I don't own _Anchoring Deep_ (well, I'm gonna own _a copy_—I have yet to read it); Max Lucado does. Don't sue me; I just borrowed it. I'm just a college kid who's bored, waiting for school to reopen. And a preacher's kid who wants to do a Christian comic and Christian heroes.

"And so, my friends," Pastor Phil said, "That is the battle that has been raging since the dawn of time. Satan and his horde of fallen angels against God. In closing, let me remind you—let me reiterate—always wear your spiritual armor."

"Boring!" JR Chase said, with a yawn and a stretch.

The youth pastor continued like nothing had happened. "The battle isn't over, kiddos! I assure you, it rages on. We are soldiers of the King. Hence, the attacks. Be prepared. _Always, always_ be prepared."

"I'm outta here," JR said, patting his older brother JF on the shoulder. And true enough, without another word, he was out of there. Quick as lightning.

Everyone whispered and looked at each other.

"What's with him?" Esther Vale said, whispering to her seatmate.

"Ionno," he said with a shrug.

-oOo-

Meanwhile, in an abandoned sawmill somewhere, another meeting was taking place. Black robed and hooded men and women gathered in the old sawmill, chanting in Latin. The priest stood before a makeshift altar. He raised a goblet he was holding in his hands and said, "Take this cup. This is the blood of my enemies, spilled and poured out in my wrath. Do this in remembrance of me."

The members of the coven drank as the wine-filled goblet was passed along from one person to the next. A laugh emanated from the priest's throat.

-oOo-

"The world is goin' to hell in a hand basket, like my granddad always used to say," the youth pastor said, continuing as though JR had not been there to start with, "And you better make sure you're not in that hand basket. Nor any of your friends or relatives. It grieves my heart to know that my mother is in that hand basket. Looks like I haven't done my job as a soldier well. One of which is to rescue others from the shadow and bring them into the kingdom. But I continually pray for her. Let's all do our part, shall we? Let us pray."

JF Chase did not pray with them. He went out to find his brother—and to talk some sense into him.

-oOo-

The priest lifted up his hands, holding up the Host. But there was something wrong about this communion wafer. It was black. His voice rang clear in the empty sawmill.

"This bread is my body made black with sin. Do this in remembrance of me."

One by one, people—all in black hoods and cloaks—lined up to receive the unholy wafer.

-oOo-

"Hey, Uncle Phil," Jesse said, coming up to the youth pastor, "That was a nice devotional. Thanks for sharing it. You know, we really need a wakeup call like that these days."

"True, true," the 60-year-old man said, nodding.

"Where'd you get that, by the way? The…allegory?"

"It's from Max Lucado's book _Anchoring Deep_. It's from chapter ten. The Golden Goblet."

"Oh, cool. Mind if I borrow it?"

"No, no, not at all. I don't mind."

"Alright. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Oh, before I forget… What's your dad gonna be preachin' about this Sunday?"

"Um, Acts?"

Pastor Phil chuckled. "I know he's doing a series on Acts. What's he's next sermon about?"

"Oh," Jesse said with a sheepish smile, "Simon the magician."

"Ah," the old man said, "That ought to be interesting. Tell him I love his preaching."

"I sure will."

Meanwhile, in the church yard, the 23-year-old Charles "J.F." Chase pulled his 19-year-old brother by the scruff of his neck and pinned him against the wall at the side of the church building.

"What…were you doing…in there?" he said, slowly, trying to keep his temper in check, "What just happened? Care to tell me? Care to explain, huh?"

"Look! What is your problem?" JR said, pushing the older boy off him, "What do you care?"

"What do I care? _What do I care!_ You're a leader; that's what I care about! A youth leader you dare to call yourself? You better not lead the praise and worship team tomorrow. Your attitude's rotten and your heart isn't right with God. _Are you even listening to me?_"

But he wasn't anymore. The boy fixed his gaze on the sky. He pointed and J.F. looked over. What he saw made his blood run cold. The hairs on his arms and neck stood on end like a cat's when frightened. He shivered. Everyone was looking up, scared, terrified, amazed. The sky was red as though there was a fire on the horizon. The moon was blood-red. Peals of thunder were heard. Lightning flashed. Christina Nelson, being a former Catholic and now a baby Christian, made the sign of the cross, still not forgetting her old ways. Her best friend Jesse Parker stood behind her, steadying her, supporting her by the shoulders in case she fainted.

-oOo-

"And these shall be our apple tree; let the war on the saints begin…" the priest and the other members of the coven chanted. They moved in a circular motion around the altar, where a woman lay on it, stark naked.

"And these shall be our apple tree; let the war on the saints begin…"

The priest poured the wine on the ground.

"And these shall be our apple tree; let the war on the saints begin…"

Another woman disrobed and lay on the altar as soon as the first woman got off, put her robes and cloak back on, and joined the throng moving around the altar.

"And these shall be our apple tree; let the war on the saints begin…"

-oOo-

"Holy—" Victor, one of the youth said, covering his mouth to prevent himself from using the Lord's name in vain once more. He bit his tongue.

"What the—?" Edward Prince said.

Jesse looked from the phenomenon in the sky and focused his attention on the cross screwed and bolted to the wall of the church. He thought he heard something. Something creaking. Screeching. It sounded like metal being grated or hacked. Like the sound of fingernails scratching on a chalkboard.

"JF! JR! Watch out!" he said, as he ran toward them and pushed them out of the way of the swinging cross. He ducked and covered their bodies just in time. The screw somehow loosened, sending the cross swinging—upside down.

"Dude," JR said, panting, "What in the world is going on?"

"Like Uncle Phil says, the world is going to hell in a hand basket."

-oOo-

"And these shall be our apple tree; let the war on the saints begin…"

The priest and the people continued chanting. A man now lay on the altar, also naked.

"And these shall be our apple tree; let the war on the saints begin…"

Outside, the sky grew redder.

"And these shall be our apple tree; let the war on the saints begin…"

Another man stepped forward, disrobed, and lay on the altar. More chanting.

"And these shall be our apple tree; let the war on the saints begin…"

The candles flared.

"And these shall be our apple tree; let the war on the saints begin…"

-oOo-

The Chase brothers suddenly pulled Jesse toward them and rolled out of the way. Then he knew why. The cross was burning. Every member of the youth group rushed to them. Christina helped Jesse up.

"You okay?" Christina said, pulling Jesse close into a hug.

"Yeah," he said, with a cough, pulling away from her, "I'm fine."

"I don't like this," Esther said, shaking her head, "I don't like this at all."

"Nobody does," Peter Stevens said, interrupting, shaking his head. After the initial shock, they managed to put the fire out. Strangely, the only thing burned was the cross. Nothing more.

-oOo-

"And these shall be our apple tree; let the war on the saints begin…"

Another man was on the altar, naked. He was the third man to step up and lie on the altar.

"Let the gates of hell open wide; let the war on the saints begin…"

The pentagram on the ground glowed red as more libation was poured.

"Let the gates of hell prevail against the Church; let the war on the saints begin…"

The chanting grew louder as more and more men and women stepped up and disrobed, laying on the altar.

"May she welcome her children home; let the war on the saints begin…"

It was a game of chess in which God and the Satan played. But kings and pieces were not the only ones that were at stake. The souls of mankind hung in the balance.

-oOo-

"Where's Pastor Boggs?" someone asked.

"He might've left already."

"Him? Leave?" Jesse said, "I know him really well. He's too curious to leave. If anything, he'd watch this the whole night—or however long this might last."

"Guys," Peter said, in a hoarse whisper, "Over here! Check this out…"

Five of them went with Peter. Jesse, Christina, Jesse's first cousin Esther, Peter's cousin Edmund, and JF. They walked round to the back of the church where they found their youth pastor. And someone else with him.

As they approached, they suddenly stopped and froze. Christina was close to fainting. Had it not been for Jesse, she would have fallen. In front of them were Pastor Phil Boggs and someone not quite so human. Everyone in that little group knew it was an angel although they had never seen one. He was shining like the sun, his hair red as living flames.

_This is what the Shekinah must've looked like,_ Jesse thought.

The angel's wings were so huge they almost engulfed the building of Oldwood Village Church. The angel stood at nine feet, seven inches. His eyes were as glorious as the bright white light that surrounded him. He wore a white tunic, a golden belt, a golden sash, and a sword in his hand.

"I am Michael," the Angel said.

Christina fainted. Jesse was too late in catching her. The others bowed low, faces to the ground, including Jesse—with the exception of Phil. He was standing straight up.

"Rise," Michael said, "Do not worship me. I am a servant of the Most High as you are. Rise. It has begun. The gates of hell have been opened wide. The final war with the saints is at hand."

"What will the Most High have me do?" Phil said, his face set as granite.

"Defend the Church that stands upon the Rock that the gates of hell may not prevail against it."

Phil opened his mouth wide and light entered it. Then just like that, Michael was gone. It was as though Phil had swallowed him up.

Suddenly, he seemed to explode, a blinding light flashing around him. His open mouth seemed to emit light. And his eyes. Nostrils. He was ablaze with resplendent glory. When the light faded, they saw him. Not Phil, but the angel Michael standing there where Phil had been. He was now normal-sized; like a human—Phil's height—six feet, four inches. With another flash of light, his wings folded and disappeared. He was now wearing a bronze breastplate over his snow-white tunic. It was the kind of breastplate used by the ancient Romans.

"Lorica segmentata," Esther whispered, in awe.

On his waist was a belt—the cinculum militaire. He wore caligae on his feet. He still held his sword in his hand. With the other, his helmet.

"Now go," Michael said, his voice resonating, "Protect the Church that stands on the Rock that the gates of hell may not prevail against it."

Suddenly, the five young people could not help but open their mouths as though someone was forcing them open. Then five points of light appeared in the sky. At first they thought they were stars—but the stars could not be seen that night. As they pondered what those lights might've been, the lights grew steadily brighter. It was heading for them. Jesse's brain told him to run. But his body couldn't. The lights reached them, entering their open mouths just as light entered through Phil's open mouth. Now they were replaced by five angels, shining, poised, battle-ready. Another flash of light and their wings were gone, leaving them in their armor. Not all had the same armor or tunic. Adara, Esther's angel, for example, had on a golden helmet, a yellow tunic, a gold belt, a gold breastplate, a gold shield, a gold-hilted gladius, and golden sandals. Amichai, Jesse's angel wore a silver breastplate, a brown leather belt, a silver helmet, red-painted shield, an ordinary-looking gladius, brown leather sandals, and a white tunic. Eyal, Edmund's angel, wore the same armor as that of Amichai. But he wore a red tunic underneath, like that of a traditional Roman soldier. Raanan, JF's angel, wore the same armor as the first two men in the group but had a green tunic underneath. Zeev, Peter's angel wore black armor all over; even his shield was painted black. He wore a black tunic underneath.

"So it begins," Michael said, looking into the heavens.

Amichai removed his helmet and squatted down to scoop the still-unconscious Christina up in his arms.

"With your permission, my Prince," he said, addressing Michael. The chief angel nodded. Carrying the girl in his arms, he flew off to deliver her safely to her home then returned quickly to the others.

"Is this Armageddon, Prince?" Zeev asked.

"No," Michael answered, "Not yet. It is but another attempt by the Enemy to wage war on our King's saints and to harvest many souls to take with him into the burning lake of fire. You must stop him."

All five angels made their right hands into fists and put it on the left side of their breast and bowed.

"El Elyon wills it," they said in chorus.

-oOo-

Not too far off, in the church's parsonage, Reverend Langston Parker and his wife Lisa were having a late dinner after having come from the youth Bible study. It was a habit for them now. They would sit in during the Bible study and observe. They would help out if there were any tough questions from time-to-time. After Bible study, since Mrs. Parker was allergic to pizza, they would go home to have a late dinner. Sometimes with Jesse, sometimes just the two of them. It started five years ago. And nothing could break that dinner—except for phone calls. The Parkers had hoped that tonight would be an exception. Unfortunately, it wasn't. The phone rang and Mrs. Parker called out.

"Jesse? Jesse!" she shouted, "Will you please pick up the phone?" Then she stopped. "Right. I forgot. He's out. I'll get it. Where in the world is that kid anyhow? We're in the same compound as the church building. He should be home by now."

Incessant ringing.

"Relax. He's 20. I'm sure he can take care of himself," Reverend Parker assured her, "Now go get the phone."

Incessant ringing.

"Alright, alright! I'm coming!"

-oOo-

A bloodcurdling scream pierced the night air. Even Amichai and Adara, who were accustomed to hearing such shrieks from demons, flinched.

"It has begun," Michael stated once more, "But take courage. Elyon is on our side."

Adara and Amichai put their helmets on and drew their swords. The rest followed suit. Michael blew his horn, and off they charged, soaring into the air, on the hunt for a demon—or possibly demons. The battle had begun.

-oOo-

Lisa Parker gave the phone to her husband.

"It's Gene," she said, handing the phone to him.

"Pastor Gene?"

"No, 'Old Man Gene.' Gene Garner." The pastor took the phone from his wife.

"Mr. Garner!" Langston Parker greeted, "What can I do for you tonight? How can I be of service? _What!_"

He scribbled on a Post-It note for his wife to see. _Granddaughter. Possessed. Must go._ Lisa Parker covered her mouth in shock. In a small town like Oldwood, everybody knew everybody. She knew instantly who that granddaughter was. And Kayla was one of her favorite students. Bright in Sunday School, easily picked up the techniques she taught her during piano lessons, and a very dedicated choir member even at the very young age of 12.

"Alright," Langston was saying, "I'll be there. I'm on my way. Let me just go get my jacket and my Bible." He put down the phone, reassuring the old man of his presence.

"Please tell me that wasn't Kayla he was referring to," Lisa said, her voice shaking, still not over the shock of the news.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"I…I'm coming with you."

"No, you stay here. Wait for Jesse." Reverend Parker knew the story of his wife's encounter with a possessed seminarian, a near-encounter with another, and her trauma afterwards. She had been studying at the seminary with him when there was news of a possessed student that school year. Lisa Parker almost had an encounter with the said student and had almost encountered another. She has been scared of demonic possessions ever since. She had even dropped out of the seminary because of it. She could not handle the shock and requested to drop the day after the incident.

"This is different. I want to be there. For Kayla. I can do this."

"Alright. But stay in the car."

"No," she said firmly, with finality. Reverend Parker could do nothing but to consent. Lisa grabbed her coat and hurried out the door with her husband.

-oOo-

"There it is!" Zeev shouted, his voice ringing above the screams of the possessed girl. He pointed to the Garners' house. He was at Michael's side, both of them leading the charge while the others positioned themselves behind.

"For Elyon!" Michael shouted, and they swooped down.


	4. Holy Fire, Unholy Hound

**EPISODE (CHAPTER) 2**

**Holy Fire, Unholy Hound**

Jesse was scared. He thought they would bump into the wall. He could see through Amichai's eyes. The only thing he could compare it with is like being in a car. He felt as though he were the passenger when once he had been the driver. It felt like watching the driver crash the car into a lake or a wall. He was surprised to find them already inside the Garners' residence.

His parents were there, his dad's associate Pastor Gene, his uncle Yule, and some of the elders of Oldwood Village Church including one who lived an hour away. His dad was the one mainly doing the exorcism, Pastor Gene and JF's dad were helping with casting the demon out, and his mom and the other elders were praying—fervently.

He looked up from that beautiful, encouraging scene of believers praying, one in the Spirit like the Christians in Acts long ago. He was horrified at what he saw when he removed his eyes from that scene and looked at the possessed girl. He could see the silhouette of a creature that looked like it might've been taken from the Donny Darko movie, manipulating the girl. He was horrified. Frozen. The shrieks from the tortured demon did nothing to help. The more it was being cast out, the more the demon clung to the girl and refused to leave. Jesse was quaking in his boots, so-to-speak. And so was his angel Amichai.

"Amichai!" Michael shouted, his sword drawn, "_Now!_" Amichai was the only one who had not yet advanced. They were to close in on the demon. Adara was the boldest of the group, advancing, her sword drawn, taking aim at the demon. The second to take action was Zeev, hacking at the strings the demon was using to control Kayla's mind and soul. Eyal was behind Zeev, and Raanan was behind Adara. Michael was by her side.

"_Now!_" the mighty angel repeated his command, his voice threatening to make a charge of insubordination.

Amichai finally gathered up his courage and soared through the air, encouraged by the people's prayers. It was working. The demon was weakening. But something caught his attention. As the demon weakened, so did one of the elders—Romeo Chase Sr. He fell to the ground, unconscious. The demon controlled the girl, the unconscious man on the floor controlled the demon. That was the only theory Amichai, Zeev, and Adara could think of. A demon controlling or commanding another demon. Distracted, Amichai kept watching the proceedings below. They were in the air.

Zeev flung himself between the demon and Amichai. "Amichai!" he shouted as he dived, covering Amichai with one of his wings, damaging it. He fell to the floor of the Garners and materialized right before their eyes, which frightened them. The whole time, the angelic band was invisible to them—that is until Zeev damaged his wing and fell.

"Do not be frightened," Zeev said, reassuring them, "The battle is the Lord's."

By this time, the whole angelic band and the demon possessing Kayla had already materialized. This frightened some of the people but encouraged the pastor.

"The battle is the Lord's," he said, echoing the angel's words. The elders and their wives prayed more fervently than ever, all except for the Chases. Mrs. Chase was nowhere to be seen and Romeo Chase was still on the floor, knocked unconscious. But it was an advantage. With its controller out of the way, the demon was considerably weakened. But it would not give up the fight easily. It let go of Kayla; she would've fallen to the floor had her mother not caught her. Once it had let go of the innocent girl, it focused on another target—Zeev. It was coming in for the kill.

Amichai saw this as a diversion, a distraction, and immediately acted, leaping into the air, diving, slicing the demon's neck, cutting its head off with one blow. It dematerialized in an explosion of black, sulfurous smoke. Then the archangel approached the unconscious elder, and to everyone's surprise, stabbed him in the shoulder with his sword. He did not dematerialize, but the same black smoke emanated from the wound. Mrs. Chase had just come in when she saw this and ran, screaming at the angel. Michael turned in time and stabbed her in the abdomen, smoke emanating from the wound. Seeing this, Ulysses Vale backed into a corner, to everyone's surprise, cowering in fear. Michael stabbed him in the chest with his sword. Same black smoke. Same sulfuric smell. A hush fell over the group in the small house. Everyone's gaze was fixed at the mighty angel. Sometimes one of them would look at the unconscious couple, sometimes at the man in the corner, slumped, seemingly dead.

"Are they—" Sandy, a wife of one of the elders asked, but she could not finish her question.

"No," Michael said, simply, and vanished.

The others were about to vanish as well when they heard the baying of a hound. Zeev got up, picking his sword up off the floor. Amichai and Raanan turned.

"That was the baying of a hellhound," Eyal whispered, "I heard it eons before—near the entrance to Gehenna."

Another howl.

"Have you ever battled one?" Amichai asked.

"I had only heard it—not seen it."

"You never ventured to fight it?"

"I had not the courage to do so. My job at the time was to deliver evil men to the mouth of Gehenna—not to fight such creatures!"

"Well, now it is," Zeev said.

The howling grew louder. Closer. Some of the members of Oldwood Village Church had already left except for the Joneses, Pastor Langston Parker, and his wife Lisa. Together with the Garners, they made a protective circle around the child. Suddenly, there it was, the demonic hound materializing before them. It was unlike any hound either mortal or angel had seen. It was bigger than a horse. Pastor Langston advanced toward it, trying to ward it off but it charged at him, picked him up by the neck, and hurled him across the room.

_Dad! Nooooooo!_ Jesse thought as he watched.

Then it turned to its next prey—the still-weak Zeev. He raised his shield to protect himself but to no avail. His shield was hurled across the room, resounding with a loud clang. He stood up to fight but was thrown down and bitten, his tunic torn, his left arm bleeding. He had a bite. He screamed, the pain searing his wounded arm. His face was also bleeding, his helmet gone. He had scratch marks on his right cheek that burned (excuse the pun) like hell. The others moved in to strike but they could barely make a scratch on the hound. It was too powerful.

"I'll take him to Beulah," Eyal suggested, "You three take care of the hound."

With that, Zeev and Eyal vanished, leaving the three to finish the job. Amichai plunged his sword into the creature's heart but it shook him off. He let go of his sword and was flung across the room, breaking a table leg in the Garners' dining room. Raanan moved in to strike, aiming for its neck, but it snapped at him, wounding his neck.

"It's off to Beulah for you now," Adara said.

"No! I can still fight," Raanan said, "Zeev's wounds were great. This is only superficial." He covered his neck with one hand and fought using his sword with the other.

Suddenly, a little boy that looked to be 10 or 11 materialized before them. To Jesse, he looked like the boy from the video of Martina McBride's _Concrete Angel_. But as for Amichai, he recognized him. It was his good friend Luke. He was a cherub.

"Luke!" Amichai exclaimed with delight, overjoyed to see his old friend, "What brings you here?"

"I have a message from the Lord. Uriel was to deliver it to you but he is being hindered by the Prince of Persia."

"What message do you bring?" Amichai said.

"The Lord Himself shall be a wall of fire around the city and He shall be its glory within."

Jesse remembered a sermon his dad preached during one of their evening services. _Zechariah 2:5 "'And I myself will be a wall of fire around it' declares the LORD, 'And I will be its glory within.'"_

"Holy fire," Amichai said, thoughtfully, and Luke vanished.

He emerged from the dining room and said to Raanan, "'And I myself will be a wall of fire around it,' declares the Lord…"

"Are you suggesting we use Holy fire?" Adara asked.

"Maybe."

"It just might work," Raanan said, touching the tip of his blade, "The thing will refuse to come near it."

The blade glowed red and caught fire. Raanan flew around the room in a circle, the flames visible only to them but encircling even the small group of believers around the child.

"There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling!" Adara said, reassuring the Garners, the Joneses, and the pastor and his wife. The hound howled in agony as the flames licked its form.

"You come against me with sword and spear and javelin," Raanan said, quoting David of old, "but I come against you in the name of the LORD Almighty…"

The hound made a leap for Pastor Langston but yelped and howled in agony as the flames licked its evil form once more.

"Touch not the Lord's anointed!" Adara said, as flames engulfed the demon. It exploded in a confusion of fire and smoke. The battle over, the flames died down and the girl woke up as if from a bad dream.

"Did I miss anything?" Eyal said, returning from Beulah.

"You missed the whole thing. Shame," Adara said.

"Yeah. Too bad I wasn't here."

"Where's Frankie?" Kayla said, sitting up.

"Who's Frankie?" her grandmother asked.

"Frankie's the puppy I always used to keep under my bed."

"Puppy?" Adara asked.

"It's her imaginary friend."

"_No, he's not!_" Kayla said, indignantly, "He's _not_ imaginary! You always kept saying he was, but he wasn't."

"I believe you," Amichai said, "Unfortunately, we had to kill him. I'm sorry." Jesse's brain was working fast the whole time. He spoke and moved as Amichai but thought as both Jesse and Amichai—so with the others. His angelic comrades looked at him. He had seen something on the girl's Facebook before. A quiz. He remembered. _What Kind of Ghost Follows You Around?_ She had gotten "_Ghost Dog_." It said that if she loved it, it would protect her and be loyal to her. But if she gets on its bad side… Apparently, Kayla had angered it by renouncing it a few days ago. Now it was back—for retribution.

"I think there is something you should see," Amichai said to the family and to Pastor Langston, "The rest of you can stay here. We'll be back."

He navigated the house as if he had lived there and knew every feature. He led the way to the girl's room. It had the usual teen/pre-teen style. A mix of girly and womanly things. Not quite a woman just yet, but neither a girl any longer. Vogue and Seventeen magazines were on the shelves, a wide variety of romance novels, posters on the wall… But upon closer inspection, there were Ouija boards, tarot cards and such. The poor old man, loving his granddaughter dearly, almost had a heart attack.

"Looks like we have some more casting out to do," Pastor Langston said, looking around.

"What do you mean?" Pastor Gene said.

"Look around, man!" the younger pastor said, "We need to burn these. Every. Single. One. Of them. We'll do an impromptu casting out ceremony tonight."

"Good idea," the associate pastor nodded.

They turned to look at the angel for any suggestions, but he had already vanished.

-oOo-

Peter and Jesse led the way to the Garners. Peter rang the doorbell. Peter's best friend Victor (not the Victor from the youth group; he was a backslider), Kayla's uncle, opened the door.

"Pete," Victor said when he saw it was Peter.

"Vic."

"Come in. They're…doing some sort of…I dunno. Ceremony?"

"Is…Kayla alright?"

"She's fine now."

Kayla ran to Jesse as soon she saw him and hugged him. She looked up to him like a big brother and wished she was more like him. He felt the same about her. He thought of her as his little sister.

"You okay?" Esther asked.

"Yeah," she said, her voice still shaking, "But I was scared. It was so dark… And..and…and..f-f-f-fiery…"

"Sssshhh…" Jesse said, as he and the other members of the youth group comforted her.

"Let's go to the back for the ceremony," JF said, "Your dad's startin'."

"We'll be out in a sec," Jesse said, as he and the others comforted her.

**Author's Notes:** Sorry if it took a long time for me to update. School and church has been keeping me busy. Anyways, enjoy!


	5. Magus

**EPISODE (CHAPTER) 3**

**Magus**

Jesse woke up with a start when his mom came in to wake him up. He groaned, his head throbbing. He wanted to go back to sleep.

"Can I sleep for just five more minutes?" he asked, yawning.

"No, sweetheart," Mrs. Parker replied, "Time to get up. You're an usher today." He had forgotten about that detail. All he could remember was last night's events and falling asleep while reading his favorite Christian novel _To Save A Life_ by Jim and Rachel Britts. He picked the book up off the floor. He had dropped it in the night when he fell asleep. His dreams that night were a blur, going back and forth between the book and the movie and last night's events. It was all mixed up, crazy. Could it be possible he dreamed all that up? Angels and demons, possessed church leaders? His unofficial "little sister" keeping a hellhound for a pet? He would have enough time to think about that later. Right now, he had to get ready for church.

"Alright, Mom," Jesse said, "I'll be right down."

"You better be."

"By the way, Mom—"

Mrs. Parker turned back to face him.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for the book."

"I see you like it," she said, with a smile.

He nodded in response.

"No problem, Kid."

-oOo-

Meanwhile, on her way to church, Christina Nelson stopped by the cemetery as she always did, to meditate on the brevity and meaning of life. She looked at some of the dates on the tombstones. They varied. Some had died at a ripe, old age like 70 or 80. Some died merely an hour after birth. Some a day or two after. Some died at 13.

She knew someone from her class who died when they were seniors in high school. Suddenly, someone broke her reverie. It was a tap on the shoulder. She turned around to find a tall man in a suit, nicely dressed but dusty, brownish residue on his face and clothes.

_Weird_, she thought, _He smells like he's been…underground?_

"Ex…cuse me," he said, slowly, "Where's the way to the—"

And even though Christina was usually a polite young woman, she backed away and sprinted to Oldwood Village Church, leaving her prayer journal and her Bible behind in the cemetery. She was fast, strong, and athletic. She could outrun the foul-smelling man, thanks to her gymnastics training and joining the cheering squad of Victory High. It all paid off.

She was sweaty and panting when she got to church, huffing and puffing as she ascended the steps to the front door, her Bible and journal missing, the cross Jesse gave her missing, her skirt torn. Jesse, as the usher, was at the door to greet her.

"You okay?" Jesse asked his best friend, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

_If you only knew…_

"No, I'm fine," she said, fibbing, "I thought I was late. So I decided to make a run for it."

"Looks like being a cheerleader for the Victory High Angels paid off," he said, with a chuckle.

"Looks like it," she giggled, relieved that Jesse changed the subject, "Hey, I gotta go sit down inside now. We'll be starting in a few, right?"

"Yeah," Jesse said, "The pews are on the Bible."

"_What?_" Chris said, trying not to laugh.

"I _meant_ the Bibles are on the pews. Sorry."

Christina chuckled and took a seat. _The pews are on the Bible?_ she repeated to herself. _Seriously?_ She knew just what went on. It confirmed that nagging feeling—the feeling that Jesse Parker had been crushing on her since sophomore year at Victory High. He had never let on, but she somehow knew. Always. She knew it for a fact now.

-oOo-

"But there was a certain man, called Simon, which beforetime in the same city used sorcery, and bewitched the people of Samaria, giving out that he himself was some great one:…" Pastor Langston Parker began, as the congregation stood up to read that morning's passage.

"To whom they all gave heed, from the least to the greatest, saying, This man is the great power of God," the people responded, reading the second verse.

"And to him they had regard, because that of long time he had bewitched them with sorceries."

"But when they believed Philip preaching the things concerning the kingdom of God, and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women," Pastor Langston said, joining in as the congregation read the last verse.

"May the Lord give us understand as we study His word. You may now be seated," he said, signaling to the congregation that they could sit down now. Jesse, having finished with his ushering duties, sat down beside Chris. Slowly, his hand crept over onto her thigh. She was a bit shocked but didn't mind. She actually took his hand and squeezed it. She was the hottest girl on campus at Victory High in high school, but she was never one to flirt. In fact, she avoided it if she could. Especially in a church, during a sermon. But what was a squeeze? She decided it wouldn't hurt. Jesse had to keep reminding himself to focus on his dad's sermon and not on the girl of his dreams sitting beside him, holding his hand.

But it wasn't Chris who had him distracted. It was someone else—or rather something else. Denny Gladstone, a fattish old woman in her 60s, entered the church and sat in the front pew where she always sat. Everything seemed normal—but not to those who _knew _Denny Gladstone. The thing is, Denny Gladstone died the previous year while she was being operated on. Her heart burst, and she died on the operating table, the doctors unable to save her. Seeing her walk in made Jesse uncomfortable. He was palpitating. Peter Stevens (being Jesse's ushering partner that Sunday) was stunned when he opened the door for her that he almost fainted. With his free hand, Jesse loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar button. Teasing him, Christina wrote with her pen on the church bulletin.

_Not now, hun. You know I'd like to wait until marriage._ Then she breathed a silent prayer, _Forgive me, Lord._

Jesse chuckled and got up. "Excuse me," he said, whispering in Chris' ear. He went to the back and texted Peter, telling him to meet him in the church kitchen. He texted the others telling them the same thing—meeting in church kitchen.

-oOo-

"Oh, dang," Edmund Prince teased, "What now, cuh? We in trouble or something?"

Jesse just raised an eyebrow.

"Dang," Edmund said, "Sorry, dawg!"

"You tell him, Pete," Jesses said, his voice shaking. His fingers twitched as he added another teaspoon of sugar to his coffee. He stirred it nervously.

"Denny Gladstone," Peter said.

Just two words made them shut up. Made them gasp.

"What's up with that?" JF said, "I thought she was dead?"

"Don't be so stupid," Esther Vale said, "Of course she _**is**_ dead! Everyone knows that. Common sense! My goodness."

"Well, duh," JF responded, "I didn't know she died. I wasn't exactly here when she died, was I? I was in Japan when that happened."

Silence.

"Thought so."

"What exactly is going on?" Edmund asked.

"That's what we're about to find out," Jesse said.

-oOo-

"Historians believe that Simon the Sorcerer _studied_ magic," Pastor Langston said, pounding the lectern with his fist, "Sound familiar to anyone here? Pretty much like Hogwarts, eh? I'm sorry to burst your bubble, HP fans, wizards and witches, squibs, muggles, and magical creatures, but Harry Potter is _sorcery_. And sorcery, God has made clear in His Word, is evil! Call me a 'muggle' or 'muggle-ish' all you want, but there is no shades of grey in the Bible! There is black, and there is white. _Woe unto those who call evil good, and good evil!_"

Many in the audience were nodding. Phil Boggs was enthusiastic about the sermon that he shouted "Amen!" at almost every point the pastor made. Kayla couldn't look straight into the pastor's eyes.

-oOo-

The five friends were standing out in the front lawn of Oldwood Village Church, looking up into the sky. Suddenly, a bright light flashed from the sky, brighter than the sun. It was blinding, and the five friends had to cover their eyes. In front of them stood a tall being, almost as big as the church building.

"There is a disturbance. The others have been informed of this," Gabriel said, his voice booming. Inside the church building, it sounded like a mighty, rushing wind.

"What is going on?" Peter asked.

"A demon has raised Simon Magus to life to wreak havoc and to lead astray those who are not of the Fold."

"Simon Magus?" Esther asked.

"Weren't you listening to the sermon? The magician who—" JF said.

"I _know_ who Simon Magus is—I was saying it was imposs—"

"That's a word I've learned to never use since yesterday," Peter said.

"Will Michael lead us?" Edmund said.

"Unfortunately, Michael is engaged in another conflict. You will have to deal with the Sorcerer yourselves."

"What about my angel Zeev?" Peter asked, wanting to know if he could join the fray.

"He is in Beulah, recuperating from his wounds."

"So it's down to four then," Esther said, disheartened.

"Fear not," Gabriel assured them, "The Lord of Hosts will be with you."

"Besides," JF interrupted, "I recall battling that thing last night with just the four of us."

"Your angel Raanan is an able leader," Gabriel said, "He is a garrison commander in the City."

Encouraged, they took it upon themselves to stamp out the root cause of all this trouble. The demon who had raised Simon the Magician from the dead.

"Tell the others we will be ready by noon," Jesse said.

"I shall," Gabriel said, then vanished.

"Let's go," Jesse said, "Service is almost finished. The others might get suspicious. And my dad's gonna kill me if he notices I'm not there."

With that, they went back in to finish the service. Next would be Sunday School, then lunch. And while the people are eating, they will be battling spiritual wickedness in the high places.

-oOo-

"Wait! Something doesn't add up here," Esther said, grabbing her cousin's arm on their way to Sunday School.

"Keep talking," Jesse said.

"This can't be the work of Simon Magus."

"And why not?"

"Because!"

"Because…?"

"Look! Simon didn't believe in the resurrection of the dead. Why would he resurrect all these dead people then? I know Denise Gladstone's been dead for at least a year now."

"Uh, Esther?"

"Yeah?"

"Does _bewitching_ ring a bell?"

"Keep talking," Esther said, imitating him, irritation in her voice.

"But there was a certain man, called Simon, which beforetime in the same city used sorcery, and bewitched the people of Samaria…"

"So," Esther said, "You're saying…he's raising the dead to deceive the people of Oldwood?"

"My point exactly."

"But why would _this_ 'Simon' raise the dead when the Simon in Acts didn't believe in the resurrect—"

"Hadassah, Hadassah, Hadassah," Jesse said, calling her by the Hebrew name of her namesake, which told her he was exasperated.

"_What!_"

"Remember? _To whom they all gave heed_, from the least to the greatest, saying, This man is the great power of God. And to him they had regard, because that of long time he had bewitched them with sorceries."

"He's out to deceive."

"Good! You _finally_, got it. Remember, we're dealing with demons here. Demons are liars—deceiving spirits. They'd do anything to deceive anyone."

Meanwhile, Christina Nelson stood at a distance, watching, her arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow raised, smirking. She decided to turn around and walk away before sparks flew—angry sparks.

-oOo-

Jesse could not talk to Christina after Sunday School. All he got from her was a string of sarcastic comments. Angry, they parted ways, and Jesse took a walk to clear his mind. Did she love someone else? Was it something he said? Something he did? He forced those thoughts into the back of his mind and concentrated on the task ahead—ridding Oldwood of a demon and an ancient magician. It sounded absurd. Was last night really just a dream? Maybe it was true, after all. His walk led him off the church premises and into the community cemetery. He had remembered something weird he saw in his dad's office once. A map of Oldwood. He could not get the strange picture to leave his head. It was there—right there. Upon closer study of the map, one would observe that the old sawmill is at the center of town (a weird place to put a sawmill), surrounded by five points on the map—five cemeteries. On connecting these points, one could notice an uncanny image—that of a five-pointed star. It gave him goose bumps, thinking about it.

_The sawmill!_ he thought to himself, forcing his legs to move forward. He had to do this. Maybe the key lay in that direction. He was going to find out.

He reached the sawmill, adrenaline coursing through his system. As he scoured the area for clues that might lead him to either Simon Magus or the demon who raised him, he noticed four slow-walking men—things—headed his way. Fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and he chose flight.

_Stupid!_ he thought, _Shouldn't have gone here!_

He ran as fast as he could, hoping he wouldn't get an asthma attack in the process. He ran like a gazelle, outrunning the gathering undead who were after him.

He reached one of the five cemeteries—a trap! Why did it seem like he was going from one trap to the next? Despite the urge to run, he had to stop for a bit. He had to rest and catch his breath. Plus a gravestone caught his attention.

_Denise Gladstone. Beloved Mother to her Children._

The grave was empty. Everywhere he looked, there were empty graves. It looked like the Second Coming—except it wasn't. It was an evil mockery of it. The sun shone through the trees and there was a glint of silver in the ground. Though disgusted with the idea of descending into the hole, Jesse jumped in out of curiosity. He picked it up. It was Christina's cross—the one he gave to her a week before graduation. A tearful final week, he recalled. Good thing she decided to come back to town.

With an effort, he leaped and crawled out of Denny Gladstone's grave. A few feet away, he recognized a book and a notebook. He opened the notebook. There was writing on the first page. It was a poem Chris had composed regarding God's creation—one of her reflections. A few paces away was her Bible.

_This Bible presented to: Christina_

_On the occasion of: Her graduation._

_By: Paul and Therese, her siblings._

Getting up, he tucked the cross into his pocket and hid the Bible and notebook under a tree. He'd get back to it later and give it to Chris before the evening service. Suddenly…

"Jess?"

He turned around.

"Get away from me! Get away!" he said, backing into the tree, nowhere else to go. It was his late best friend Dawson who had died of pancreatic cancer just that year.

"Dude. That's hurtful, man," the demonic version of Dawson said.

"_Get away!_"

Suddenly, his hands glowed white—a dazzling white. A sword appeared in his hand, a shield in the other, seemingly from nowhere. His chest glowed and there, on his body was his breastplate, cinculum militaire on his waist. His head and feet glowed, and there was his helmet and sandals. He was geared for battle.

-oOo-

Back on Magnolia Lane, an eerie scene unfolded like the rising action of a zombie apocalypse movie. Dozens of dead men, women, and children walked—or crawled—out of their graves and walked the streets. Esther, JF, and Edmund stood side-by-side, never leaving each other. They stuck like glue.

As the throng of undead swelled and swelled and came closer, JF had some encouraging words to say.

"He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty! I will say of the Lord He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in Him I will trust…"

"He shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler… Because thou hast made the LORD which is thy refuge, even the Most High thy habitation… There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling!" Esther Vale added.

"Where in blazes is Jesse?" Edmund said, worried and irritated by their friend's absence. They were down to four, and now, he had gone AWOL?

"I saw him walk off," Esther said, "Last time I heard he had a fight with Christina."

"Christina?" JF said, "Which Christina? Peter's sister? Or the new girl who attends church?"

"Not Tina," Esther said, to clarify, "Chris."

"Great time to breakup with your girlfriend," Edmund said sarcastically.

"They're not official yet."

"Well then! Great time to pick a fight with your soon-to-be girlfriend!"

"Ahem!" JF said, clearing his throat, "Can we _please_ just concentrate on _this_ fight? Come on, now!"

Suddenly, they burst in an explosion of brilliant white light, so dazzling their enemies fell. And there stood Adara (looking like some heavenly shield-maiden), Eyal, and Raanan, battle-ready, helmets on their heads, their swords in hand, shields at the ready. It was only momentary—the hordes of hell recovered and advanced, the shock of it now gone. The three angels stood back to back, encircled by walking reanimated corpses.

"And the LORD, he [it is] that doth go before thee; he will be with thee, he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee: fear not, neither be dismayed," Adara said, swinging her sword and blocking an attack with her shield. As soon as her blade cut her attacker's flesh, the thing dissolved and was reduced to a rubble of bones.

"But thou, O LORD, _art_ a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head," Adara said, chopping an attacker's head with the sharp edge of her buckler. This she did to encourage her companions, which seemed to work. The more she fought and the more she gave them words of encouragement, the stronger and braver they waxed, putting up a good fight though they were surrounded on all sides, seemingly outnumbered by the forces of darkness.

-oOo-

Back at Oldwood Cemetery, separated from his comrades, Amichai had to put up a really good fight on his own. And he wasn't sure how long he could last. He had to let the others know where he was—that he was alright. He took to the air and spread his wings, soaring as high, as far, and as fast as he could. He would deal with those monsters later; now, he had to locate the others.

-oOo-

Everywhere in Oldwood, everyone was indoors, doors and windows locked. Nobody dared go outside. The authorities had tried to control the situation but withdrew, afraid to interfere, afraid to incur the wrath of both sides. It was like being in a horror movie but a thousand times scarier. Even the mayor could do nothing. Some had already broken into houses. The screams of women and children filled the air. The sound of angry men as they warned the foul creatures to stand back. The smell of gunpowder. The _ak-ak _of machine guns and the boom of rifles. Breaking glass. But nothing could stop the legions of hell except the heroes of heaven. The only weapons that worked were the angelic blades. The bullets and other human means did nothing. All around the three angels, there lay heaps of skeletons, sickening to behold. Creepy. Repulsive.

At Oldwood Village Church, Christina Nelson, along with the Sunday School teachers, led the children to safety, ushering them into the Sunday School rooms, barring the doors and windows, and trying to comfort them. To calm them down.

In the sanctuary, the people gathered, scared, shaken, distraught, not knowing what to do. Pastor Langston Parker walked down the aisle to the pulpit, Bible in hand. He opened his Bible and read aloud from Psalm 121.

"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help _cometh_ from the LORD, which made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber. Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. The LORD _is_ thy keeper: the LORD _is_ thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore."

-oOo-

Amichai flew in circles three times in the air before swooping down to rejoin his comrades.

"Be strong and courageous, be not afraid nor dismayed … for all the multitude that [is] with him: for [there be] more with us than with him."

"Amichai!" Raanan exclaimed, "My brother! You! Here!"

"Forgive me for the delay. I was hindered. They were many—" Amichai said, plunging his sword into an attacking enemy.

"Where?" Adara asked.

"The tombs. I escaped, coward-like. And then I recalled Hezekiah of old and gathered up my strength."

They had no more time to converse, however, for the battle raged on, the four angels hacking, sawing, cutting, blocking, chopping, stabbing any of the foul demons who advanced against them. Everywhere they looked, rotten men, women, and children turned to skeletal remains, bones littering the ground like a newly excavated battlefield. But the battle was far from over. They had yet to hunt the demon that did all this—him and his puppet Simon Magus.

-oOo-

In the center of town, another meeting of sorts was taking place. The gathering of the Unfaithful. A fellowship of the thieves and the wolves. Goats and apostates, great or small. Apollyon and Mephistopheles stood in their midst, before the altar the people had erected the night before, Simon Magus beside them. They turned to face Simon and bowed low.

"Behold," Mephistopheles said, "The Standing One."

Everyone bowed low. Not one head was left that was raised. All were prostrate before the dark sorcerer. He stretched out his hands and breathed on them.

"Receive the Unholy Spirit," he said, fire in his eyes. Suddenly, above the heads of all those present, there appeared what seemed to be tongues of fire. But they were black. Blasphemy. A mockery of the coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost.

"Go now," he said, "I send you out as wolves among sheep. Be as deadly as dogs and as crafty as serpents!"

-oOo-

While the pastor and the other members of Oldwood Village Church held an impromptu prayer meeting, some of the women and the Sunday school teachers were trying to keep the children calm. Christina Nelson did a fine job at it herself until she too began to panic. She felt around in her skirt pocket for the cross Jesse gave her. Not finding it there, she felt around for it on her neck and chest. Nothing. It was nowhere to be found. She was still superstitious and believed in the protection such objects offered. But her fear was for Jesse. Where was he? Where could he be? What happened to him? Is he safe? She was sorry she had snapped at him earlier. She was worried about him. Then came the sound of breaking glass. Screams. Crying. The foul smell of earth and decay. Christina jumped up but she wasn't fast enough. Someone grabbed her by the neck from behind and tried to pull her out of the building through the window.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," Amichai said, plunging his sword into the vile thing's neck. It writhed, dropped Christina on the floor, and disintegrated to dust, piled up on the floor of the Sunday school room. Christina looked up at her hero and fainted. In the sanctuary, the same thing was happening. Demonic undead men, women, and children trying to break into the church, breaking the windows and doors down.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Gladstone, but this is the end of the ride for you," Amichai said, stabbing the creature posing as Denny Gladstone.

"I'm sorry I have to do this, Paul," Raanan said, cutting off an old man's head. It was a demon in the guise of an undead Paul Farris, a respected man in the community and well-loved at church.

"He was a good man," Amichai said, nodding, then resumed fighting.

The battle raged on. Wave after wave they came. The demonic hordes seemed innumerable. The battle was endless. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Eyal noticed Adara spreading her wings and taking off, her golden armor glinting in the sun. She flapped her wings and was gone in a minute.

"Where is she going?" Eyal said.

"I have no idea," Raanan said, trying to concentrate on fighting.

-oOo-

Meanwhile, there were more. A huge crowd advanced, intending to join in the fray. These men and women were alive—not dead. These were the ones Simon had "baptized." They had come to help. Reinforcements.

"We have company!" Raanan shouted.

"Great Jonathan!" Amichai exclaimed.

"Zeev is wounded and now Adara has left us to fend for ourselves," Eyal said, bitterly.

Then there was a trumpet blast.

-oOo-

"They come, Prince," a messenger said, winging his way back to Michael, "In numbers far greater than our own."

"Numbers do not win a battle," Michael replied.

"No," Adara said, "But I bet they help."

There they stood, poised, battle-ready. They were prepared for any attack from the enemy and prepared to attack the enemy themselves. Adara stood by Michael's side, her sword drawn, an army of angels under Michael's command behind them.

A trumpet blast.

"For Elyon!"

Another trumpet blast.

The angelic host swooped down, annihilating the enemy. Ash, dust, and bones littered the area. The people looked on, horrified. The angelic band was visible to their four comrades but invisible to mortal eye. The possessed townsfolk who had followed Apollyon, Mephistopheles, and Simon Magus all fell, black smoke emanating from their wounds as the heavenly army descended upon them with great force. The task done, Michael sent the army back to the Holy City. But the task was not yet fully done. The two demons and the magician were waiting for them.

Michael advanced, sword in hand, Adara at his side.

"Leave the sorcerer to me," a familiar voice said. Adara smiled. The others gasped. Zeev had returned—unexpected. Simon quaked in fear. Though his companions were strong, he did not trust them. And he knew that the three angels before them were even stronger. Zeev raised his sword and swung it, decapitating the magician in a second. The battle commenced, Apollyon moving to strike Adara, Mephistopheles battling Michael. Adara blocked Apollyon's blow with her own sword and Zeev kicked him in the stomach and pinned him to the ground, his foot on his stomach, sword trained at him. Adara too had her sword trained at the demon. They were too fast for him. He could not produce Hellfire. Zeev stabbed the creature and it slowly vanished to reveal none other than Romeo Chase Sr. himself. Mephistopheles' form vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving a girl in its wake. She fell to the ground. She wasn't from around those parts. But Jesse recognized her. Melissa's friend and roommate Haley. When she came to, she looked around, dazed and confused.

"Where am I?" she said, panicking, "Who are you people?"

-oOo-

Peter, Jesse, Esther, Kayla, Victor, Edmund, JF, and JR were hanging out at the church youth room. Victor and Kayla were sitting right next to each other and texting each other.

"Wow," Peter said with a laugh, "You guys are wasting minutes! You're sitting next to each other and you're texting each other?"

The two pre-teens just shrugged. Just then, Jesse got up. He remembered something he had to do.

"Where are you going?" JF said.

"Out," Jesse said, telling them to mind their own businesses in not so many words.

"Oh, come on!" Peter said, "We share secrets here, remember?"

"_I do not_ have a secret!" Jesse said.

"It won't leave the group," JR said, "We promise."

"Whatever."

"Dude, man! Come on! Out with it already."

"Let's just say it has something to do with Matthew 5:23-24."

"Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift. Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift," Peter said, teasing.

"Look it up," Jesse said, then left. He walked from the church to the cemetery where he had last left Christina's Bible and prayer journal. He recovered them from under the tree, carried them in one arm, and felt around in his pocket for the cross. He breathed a sigh of relief, glad to know it was there. He ran to her house and rang the doorbell. It was her older brother Paul who answered the door. He had just graduated and had been recently ordained. He was now Father Paul Nelson. He wore the usual cassock.

"Good evening, Father," Jesse greeted, respectfully.

"Please… You can still call me Paul."

Jesse smiled.

"Is Chris here?"

"She…uh…"

"You're a priest now," Jesse said, smiling, "You know lying is a sin."

"She's in her room."

"Thanks," Jesse said, smiling, "Mind if I sit down while waiting for her?"

"Not at all," Paul said, "You know you're always welcome here."

Just then, Mrs. Nelson came out of the kitchen.

"Hello, Jesse," she greeted.

"Hello, Mrs. Nelson."

"Are you here to see Christina."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm sorry. She won't come down. I'll try again, though."

"Thank you, ma'am. I'd appreciate it."

With that, Mrs. Nelson ascended the stairs and disappeared from view. Jesse could hear her knocking on Christina's door.

"Go away!" Christina shouted, angry, "Leave me alone…"

"Jesse's here to see you."

"I'm not seeing him!"

"Tell her I'm not leaving until I've talked to her," Jesse told Mrs. Nelson, which Christina heard.

"Fine!"

Five minutes passed. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. The door remained shut. Finally, unable to take it any longer, knowing that Jesse was still there, Christina came out of her room.

"You've got eight minutes."

"Look. Obviously, something's up."

Chris just rolled her eyes.

"But I have no clue what it is. Help me out here, okay? I thought we hit it off. I mean, I really like you."

"Me and who else?"

"What? What do you mean 'me and who else'?"

"Nothing. You've got seven minutes. Keep talking."

"Chris, if this is about Melissa—"

"You know what? Forget this! Why don't you go be with your girlfriend before she finds out you're here and get jealous?"

"What girlfriend? Chris, I haven't had a girlfriend for two years now!"

"I saw you talking to her today—at church!"

"Who?"

"Anna Popplewell look-alike? Dark hair? Beautifully done nails? Ring a bell?"

"Esther?"

"Mrs. Esther Parker. Cute. I hope you make a wonderful family someday."

"Chris, Esther is my cousin. We were discussing something. That's it. _End_ of story."

"So… She's not—"

Jesse shook his head, smiling, trying not to laugh.

"I feel like such an idiot," she said, grinning sheepishly.

"Hey, you know what? It's my fault. I should've introduced you to each other." And there in the hallway, they hugged and kissed, Christina, giving her love to Jesse even before he asked for it.

After they both broke the kiss, Jesse gave Christina her Bible and journal.

"I believe this belongs to you," he said, handing it to her, smiling.

She gasped. "My Bible! And my journal…"

"That's not all," Jesse said, pulling out the cross from his pocket, "Here." He put it around her neck.

"You must be the answer to my prayer," she said.

"What prayer?"

"Remember Eliezer? Abraham's servant?"

Jesse nodded. Chris opened her Bible to Genesis 24:12-14.

"Then he prayed, "LORD, God of my master Abraham, make me successful today, and show kindness to my master Abraham. See, I am standing beside this spring, and the daughters of the townspeople are coming out to draw water. May it be that when I say to a young woman, 'Please let down your jar that I may have a drink,' and she says, 'Drink, and I'll water your camels too'—let her be the one you have chosen for your servant Isaac…

"I applied the same principle. I asked God to show me the right person for me. The sign? He should return three things that I'd lost."

"And how long has this been going on?"

"Senior year."

"No wonder you kept turning those jocks down. I was quite surprised."

Christina giggled, blushing.

"Hey, what time is it?"

"7:10."

"We've got 20 minutes to get to church."

"Race you there?"

"You're on."

"By the way… If my cousin looks like Anna Popplewell—a very good compliment—you look like a teenage version of Rachel McAdams."

Christina blushed and kissed Jesse's cheek.

**Author's Notes: **My apologies for not updating in awhile. I've been really busy—academically and at the church. I had no time to update. And I took the battle scene with Michael and the angels from a favorite movie of mine. Can you tell what movie it is? Also, the ending where Jesse and Chris make up, is taken from another favorite movie of mine—which I tweaked a little bit. Anyone care to take a guess?


	6. An Explanation & An Apology

**Author's Notes:**

In my defense, yes, I am a Christian. First and foremost, I would like to address the subject of my Peter/Susan Pevensie stories. Yes, I fell. Yes, I sinned. I do read my Bible (in fact, I read it all year round and replace it when it gets too crowded with my notes and annotations—which is every two years—or when my Bible gets really worn out). About my Peter/Susan stories: like David, I was lured in by something beautiful. Like Eve, I was drawn in by a lie. When I first read a Peter/Susan fanfic, I was disgusted—it _**was**_ revolting! But then the more I read these stories, the more I found it…interesting. I have read really good writers who make it seem really nice. The lovers, the problem, the separation, you-and-me-against the world, and the tragic ending; all these appealed to the romantic in me. I've always loved Romeo-and-Juliet/Tristan-and-Isolde-type stories, and from then on, I was hooked like fish. Yes, I fell. And yes, I sinned. But I also got back up again. I am over those stories (Peter/Susan) now. I have confessed. I have repented. I have turned—like Peter after his denial, like David when confronted by Nathan. The Holy Spirit _**was and is**_ my Nathan. And like David, I did repent. _**I DO NOT AND WILL NOT**_ write any of those types of stories anymore.

Second, Christina Nelson. Yes, _**I know**_ that Catholics are Christians too—at least that's what I used to believe. But my mom's views/attitude have been rubbing off on me, I guess. I introduced my friend to her (who I have a crush on). She liked her and they hit it off. She even said I should ask her out. When my friend left, my mom asked me if she was Christian. I said yes. She says, "Oh? From what church?" (She is well-versed in Scripture, which my mom liked.) I said, "Saint Something-Something." And she said, "Oh… Well, she's not Christian then. She's Catholic." (Plus she saw her pictures on Facebook and saw the icons in her house.) I did debate with my mom about that for a long time (months). But I guess it rubbed off on me.

Third, one of the demon-hosts. My ex-girlfriend's roommate herself asked me if she could be included as a villain in my piece because she liked the idea (of her fighting against me, perhaps).

Fourth, yes, I fell. Yes, I sinned. And yes, I was hypocritical. But at least I clean my mouth (or reviews).


	7. Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

**EPISODE (CHAPTER) 4**

**Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep**

"So a woman decides to criticize her husband, who happens to be the pastor," Pastor Langston Parker began his sermon with a joke, "Every Sunday that he preached, every single Sunday of their married life, the young wife never ceased to criticize her husband. Finally the poor preacher notices this and approaches her. He says, 'Sweetheart, why do you keep criticizing my preaching? I thought we were a team here.'

The wife answers, 'But your sermons are really quite boring, dear.'"

To which the pastor replies, 'If I promise to not preach a boring sermon, will you promise me you will stop criticizing my preaching? Or that you will not fall asleep, no matter how tempted you are?'"

The congregation laughed.

"The woman promised, of course," Pastor Parker continued, "And so the years passed and the young preacher and his wife grew old. On their fifty-eighth wedding anniversary, after the party that their congregation prepared for them, the wife took the man's hand and led him upstairs. She needed to show him something. In the drawer of the woman's dresser, among her things was an egg. 'What is this?' the preacher asked, curious.

'Well,' his wife said, 'Every time you'd preach a boring sermon and I was tempted to fall asleep or criticize it, I decided I'd bite my tongue and mark those moments with an egg.'

The old preacher was touched. She found only one of his sermons boring!"

The congregation burst into another round of laughter.

"Then the wife says to the husband, 'Open the closet, dearest. I have something else to show you.' The man opened it as directed, and to his surprise, there was a chest. Upon opening the chest, he discovered a pile of money worth ninety thousand dollars.

'What is this?' he asked, surprised and confused.

'That's the money I earned selling those eggs.'"

Everyone in the sanctuary burst out laughing once more, Jesse, Christina, and Mrs. Parker laughing the loudest.

"So, my friends," the pastor said, "You wouldn't fall asleep on me, would you? But enough with the funnies. I would like to request everyone to please rise as we turn our Bibles to this morning's text."

"Ephesians Chapter 5:8-16. For ye were once darkness, but are now light in the Lord: walk as children of light (for the fruit of the light is in all goodness and righteousness and truth), proving what is well-pleasing unto the Lord; and have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather even reprove them; for the things which are done by them in secret it is a shame even to speak of. But all things when they are reproved are made manifest by the light: for everything that is made manifest is light. Wherefore he saith, Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall shine upon thee. Look therefore carefully how ye walk, not as unwise, but as wise; redeeming the time, because the days are evil. May the Lord give us understanding as we study His Word. You may now be seated."

**-oOo-**

"Fools! Incompetent buffoons!" Lucifer said, hurling a javelin at one of his demons. "I have had to deal with millennia of defeat! And now this?"

"We have news from our spies, Prince!" a messenger came in, bowing long, his face touching the ground.

"Yes?"

"They are now…receiving…the…the _W-word_—"

Lucifer roared in anger.

"I see this as an opportunity, Lord," a demon, Screwtape, said, "If they sleep, they cannot listen."

"Make them sleep… Yes… Yes, that's it!"

"Like Eutychus, yes?"

"Indeed… Like Eutychus. This is a most splendid proposal, Screwtape!"

**-oOo-**

"I believe, sirs, ladies, brothers and sisters, that to be asleep here means to be inactive and stagnant in one's Christian walk," Pastor Langston Parker said, pacing up and down as he preached.

"I also think it means literal sleep," Jesse whispered to Christina, pointing to the sound booth at the back of the sanctuary, where Dave was nodding off. She giggled.

"Look, therefore, carefully how ye walk! Some have fallen asleep in their Christian lives—they have lost their passion! Their zeal! Some have joined the darkness and walk as children of darkness! Their motto: 'If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!' Shame!"

Darkness. That was what Jesse saw. Nothing but darkness. It was enveloping him, slowly enfolding him, covering him. He had to fight it. But he couldn't. He succumbed, falling asleep, his head tilted back, saliva dripping from his open mouth. It wasn't until Edmund Prince shook him hard that he realized he had already fallen asleep.

"Huh? Who? What? Where?" Jesse said, in quick succession, startled, looking around.

"See? Even my own son is falling asleep on me," Pastor Langston said. The rest of the congregation who were still awake burst out laughing. It was embarrassing. He wished he could crawl into a hole and die. But he would get over the embarrassment eventually. What he wasn't able to get over was the shock. The scare. His heart was racing, he was sweating, his mouth was dry and his pulse hammered away in his wrists and neck. All the signals of fight-or-flight. Before he fell asleep, he thought he saw shadows. Little men no bigger than a fingernail playing on the people's eyelashes. He thought he was only imagining things. When he woke up, he noticed the same shadows, still playing on the people's eyelashes. Half of the congregation was now asleep. He thought he heard giggling and looked back. No one from the back had made that sound. The children were in their Sunday School classrooms by now, and so it couldn't have been from a little girl. Although it sounded like it. He turned to look at Christina to see if it was her. She was asleep. This gave him the opportunity to take a closer look at the creatures…whatever they were. They were tiny, no bigger than a properly trimmed fingernail. Their features were tiny. Thanks to his glasses, Jesse could see them. Without his glasses, he wouldn't be able to. They had eyes like humans, a nose, a mouth, ears, muscled arms and torsos… But something alerted Jesse. This was not good. Something wasn't right. They had horns.

_Demons!_ he thought, _No wonder_…

He scribbled a note to Edmund on the offering envelope. "_Meet me before Sunday School. Important."_

Edmund read it and nodded. He wrote back. _"Should I tell the others?"_

"_Yes. Meet me in the Youth Room."_

**-oOo-**

"Alright," JF said, pacing, "Give us the report, Jess."

"You guys remember I fell asleep, right?"

"Yeah?" Peter said, "I saw Ed waking you up."

"And most of the congregation was asleep. Dave was the first."

"Maybe he had little sleep," JF suggested.

"Seventy-five people had little sleep?" Jesse said.

"What's your theory?" Peter asked.

"Demonic activity. And it's not a theory, it's proven." Peter and Esther laughed.

"I…_saw_…them!" More laughter. "They were tiny—playing on the people's eyelashes!"

"Jess—" JF said, about to say what was on his mind—that it was ridiculous. But Edmund cut him off.

"Wait!" he said, raising a hand, "I saw them too. I saw some playing on Jesse's eyelashes." The laughter was replaced by silence. Jesse felt a shudder pass through him.

"And I saw them too," Phil Boggs said, nodding, "Small, tiny, shadow-like black things?" Jesse and Edmund nodded.

"What do you propose we do?" Peter said.

"Pray. As Jesus instructed Peter, James, and John. For the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak."

"Wait!" Esther said, "If they're tiny, we can crush them."

"Not likely. Demons don't give up without a fight," Jesse said, "You should know that from personal experience."

"Besides," JF said, "They're spiritual beings. I doubt they'll be affected by being stepped on."

"Jesse, Edmund, Esther, go to your respective Sunday School classes," Phil said, "And Jesse?"

"Yes?"

"Tell Sandy to excuse Peter and JF. I need them for a bit."

"Yes, sir."

**-oOo-**

Jesse snuck in quietly, hoping no one would notice. But someone did.

"Ah… There you are," Sandy said, opening her Bible and her copy of the Sunday School lesson. "Where are the others?"

"They won't make it," Jesse said, shifting in his seat, "Pastor Boggs needed Peter and JF for something."

"Well, then," she said, smiling, "Maybe we could start. Jesse? If you would please lead us in opening prayer…"

"Dear Father," Jesse prayed, bowing his head, "may you guide us in all truth as we digest spiritual food from Your Word. Guide us with your Holy Spirit, anoint Sandy—may You tell her what You want us to hear, Father. And let us not fall prey to the fiery darts of the wicked, but let us triumph over him. We claim Your promise, Father, that You, the God of Peace, will soon crush Satan under our feet. This I pray in the Mighty Name of Your One and Only Son, Jesus Christ, who shed His blood for us on the cross that He may purchase us… Amen."

"Oy!" John Prince said, doing a Gibbs on his seatmate Alfred, "Sunday School's over, bud." Alfred's head was bowed as though in prayer, but his mouth was open, drool dripping from the corner. He was snoring too.

Everyone laughed. Except for Jesse. What seemed funny to them was serious to Jesse—serious and alarming. It wasn't just Alfred who was sleeping. There were two others. And on their eyelashes, he could see the same demons.

"Very good prayer, Jess," Sandy said, smiling.

"I concur," Christina said, squeezing his hand.

"That makes three of us," Princess, Victor's older sister said.

"Thank you," he said, blushing, smiling.

"Where did your mom stop last week?" Sandy asked, directing the question at Jesse.

"In the middle of Chapter 4."

**-oOo-**

There was screaming outside. There was screaming inside. The children who had been let out to play in the church's playground ran helter-skelter, terrified. The old women in the church screamed the loudest. They could not run—they were frozen in their seats. Sandy's class was in the middle of their Sunday School discussion when they heard the commotion.

"What in the—" Jesse said, jumping up. Everyone jumped up. Christina clung tightly to Jesse. Sandy stood on her chair while John, Jesse, and Christina stood on Pastor Langston Parker's desk (he let the office be converted into a classroom on Sundays).

"Where did those things come from?" John asked.

The blue carpet of the church office was no longer blue. It was black. And it seemed to be moving. As though there was a swarm of flies on the floor.

"From _hell_."

With great effort, Jesse jumped from his father's desk to a chair, to another chair, to his own desk, then finally jumped off the desk onto the floor. Tiny cries of anger were heard. It sounded like buzzing, but Jesse was sure they were cries of anger. When he tried to push the door open, he could not. It was stuck—they were too numerous. He could see them outside. Perhaps thousands of them. They covered the parking lot. They covered every square inch of the church, including the backyard and front yard of the parsonage. Everything was black. There was a loud buzzing, which meant only one thing—they were all angry. Jesse finally forced the door open, sending the creatures flying in the air. He ran like crazy, crushing every imp in his path. He was the very picture of a knight sans armor, charging furiously into battle. But soon, that would change. He ran, searching for his comrades. He wondered where Phil, JF, Esther, Edmund, and Peter were.

"Pete!" he called, "Pete! Where are you?"

"Here!" Peter shouted back. He was on the roof.

Jesse ran as far as his legs could carry him, grabbed the branch of the oak tree on the south side of the church building and swung, climbing up like a monkey. He reached the top branch and decided to make a jump for the roof.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered as he leaped into the air, closing his eyes. But he was surprised to feel he was flying. It was Amichai. In place of Peter was Zeev, standing there. The angel landed on the roof of the church, as lithe as a cat. From that high point, it looked as though someone had covered the church grounds with tar. It was encouraging to see their leader, their general, down there, battling his way through the hordes of tiny demons.

"Zeev," Amichai said. Zeev nodded. Together, they flew down from the roof, landing on the ground, trampling every imp underfoot. They were soon joined by their companions. Eyal. Adara. Raanan. Suddenly, Amichai laughed, his laughter ringing loud and clear.

"What are you laughing at?" Zeev said, reprimanding his companion.

"And the God of Peace shall soon crush Satan underneath your feet!" he shouted, then laughed some more, going on a rampage, crushing every imp with the weight of his caligae. Michael smiled, leading the charge.

"Come!" he said, "Let us send these foul creatures back to their hellish master!"

"Adara! Amichai!" Zeev shouted, "Go in and destroy the ones who are within!"

The two angels nodded, obeying their second-in-command.

"Go!" Adara said to Amichai, "I'll follow!"

Amichai flew in through the open window and landed on the floor of the church library, which also served as the visitors' center and Sunday School classroom. He began stomping on the tiny creatures, crushing them. The children cheered for him, clapping. He smiled demurely and continued his mission. Adara, meanwhile, was in the foyer, doing the same thing. They were just too numerous. Michael and Zeev led the attack outside, Eyal and Raanan fighting alongside them, following orders.

**-oOo-**

"Jesse? Jesse!" Christina called, "Hun? Where are you?"

"Maybe he's like Clark Kent. Superman, you know?" John said, "Every time the White Angel shows up, he's gone."

"Yeah, and just when the White Angel's done with his duties, Jesse reappears," Sandy said, smirking, "Like Clark Kent. Come on, John! Put such silly thoughts out of your head!"

_Maybe John's right, though,_ Christina thought to herself, _Maybe Jesse is the White Angel's alter-ego. Like Clark Kent is Superman's alter-ego. Or one of the Angels. He could be the Red Angel._

**-oOo-**

"Do not panic!" Adara advised, as the people kept running and screaming. Some were on top of the table in the church's dining hall, some were standing on the pews, afraid to move, some were running helter-skelter. Suddenly, the mass of dark, tiny demons began to move—out. Adara followed the movement with her eyes and saw that they were all converging at the door, slipping underneath it. It looked like a powerful vacuum was sucking them into its dark, dusty belly. Or were they retreating?

"Adara!" Amichai said, "Come quickly! They're retreating!"

Adara flew out of the building and saw it. They seemed to be fleeing. In a couple of minutes, the parking lot was clear. Green grass showed once more in the parsonage's backyard.

"Yes!" Eyal said, "Go back to the Pit you came from!"

"Amichai!" Michael said, "See to it that they have gone."

Amichai went inside the church and searched for any signs of the demons. None whatsoever. He reported back to Michael.

"They have all gone," he said. Then a scream.

"Think again," Raanan said. The earth rumbled as though there were an earthquake. The band of angelic warriors looked and saw what appeared to be a giant, eleven feet tall, muscular, like a bodybuilder. It had horns and cloven hooves for its feet.

"Eyal!" Michael commanded, "Search for the demon who controls him!"

A demon controlling a man, controlling another demon. It was possible, just like what had happened with Kayla, or the summoning of Simon Magus. Eyal went in search of the demon's controller. He flew frantically, searching every nook and cranny. Then he saw Ulysses Vale, in a corner, smiling, his eyes as black as the darkest night.

"Yaaaaaahhhhhh!" Eyal screamed, flying towards him, his sword drawn. He was about to lop off the possessed man's head then stopped. He froze. He could not go through with it. The demon laughed, sending the angel flying back across the hall with merely one push. Eyal could not stop and smashed into the door of a room at the back of the church sanctuary where the late-comers go. Pieces of wood, tiles, parts of the wall, dust, and feathers flew through the air, sending people screaming. Eyal knocked some chairs down in the process. His left wing was torn and bleeding. But it was only a minor injury to him. His lorica segmentata dangled loosely, one of the straps that held it together having snapped due to the force of the impact. His tunic was torn, his left shoulder bleeding.

**-oOo-**

Zeev screamed as the giant-demon swung him around and hurled him across the parking lot. He flew backwards, crashing against the church steeple, breaking it. But the steeple wasn't the only thing that was broken. He had broken both his wings. But unlike Eyal, he wasn't bleeding. It was just bent and he could not raise or flap it. As for his lorica segmentata, it had completely fallen off. He landed on the oak tree. He jumped, curled himself into a ball, rolled on the church lawn and into the parking lot, straightened himself, drew his sword, and was about to strike the demon's heel when Adara stopped him.

"Wait!" she said, holding his arm back. She flew into the air, flapping her wings, and flying away.

"Deserter!" Raanan shouted.

"Nay!" Michael said, "Let her be. Amichai! Follow her. I will tend to the wounded and bring them to Beulah. Raanan, find Eyal and take over."

The angels bowed. Raanan went in search of Ulysses Vale, and Amichai followed Adara.

**-oOo-**

"Can't go any faster, can you?" Adara said, laughing, flying fast, circling, flying on her back, doing loops and vaults in the air, taunting her enemy. The demon growled.

"And just what exactly is your purpose in all this?" Amichai said.

"You'll see," she said, laughing.

**-oOo-**

"You think you lot can stop us," Beelzebub said, laughing, "Just look at what happened to your friend!"

"True, we have had our setbacks and we will have our setbacks. But I've read the last chapter of this story. We win. You lose," Raanan said, smiling.

_Clang!_ Their swords clashed, sparks flying. The battle was on. Raanan and Eyal had left tents of ease behind. Eyal had refused to go to Beulah, deciding he wanted to fight. Eyal was standing by in case Raanan needed any help.

_Clang!_ Beelzebub swung his blade, hitting Raanan's breastplate. "I'm afraid you'll have to try harder than that," the angel said, smiling.

_Clang!_ He swung once more, but Raanan's shield was at the ready. Frustrated, he turned his attention on the angel's wounded companion. He threw his spear at him, aiming for the perfect, unhurt wing. But Eyal had dodged it, frustrating the demon once more. He charged at him with his sword, but Eyal's shield blocked his blow. Eyal was on the defensive, Beelzebub on the offensive.

**-oOo-**

"Where are you leading him?" Amichai said.

"Where do you think?" Adara said, smiling.

Amichai knew. She was leading the creature back to Gehenna. And there she would attempt to trap it. He smiled. Michael's words rang clear in his head. _"Come! Let us send these creatures back to their hellish master!"_ His smile gave way to a chuckle, then to a laugh, ringing loud and clear in the thick, sulfurous air.

"What the hell are you laughing at?" Adara said, irritated.

"I remember you used to hate this job! You even begged for Eyal to be given this job instead. You said you were content to guard the Holy City," Amichai said with another laugh.

Adara was not amused.

"So what's the plan?" she said.

"Why ask me? You're the one who brought him here! Not me!"

"Alright. How about I lure him in and you chase him?"

"So he has nowhere to go… Sounds like a plan!"

And with that, the two angels proceeded with the chase, Adara, flying in front of the demon, daring it to follow her, while Amichai was behind it, driving it onward and making sure it would not escape. They were leading it back to the mouth of Gehenna. They had no trouble at all, until they reached the entrance. The demon turned on Amichai, sending him flying back. He fell to the ground and skidded, burning his wings with the hot, sulfuric earth. He groaned, his feathers burning away. In anger, Amichai stood and used what little strength he had left to fight, painfully taking to the air.

"Rejoice not over me, o mine enemy! For if I fall, I shall rise!" With that, he plunged his sword into the demons heart. It howled and fell into the mouth of Hell where it would remain for all eternity.

"Seal it!" Amichai said.

"No!" Adara answered, "He will not dare."

**-oOo-**

It was a horrible scream—like that of a wounded boar. Eyal and Raanan watched as flames consumed Ulysses Vale. In a minute, his black eyes returned to normal and the fire went out. He opened his mouth to scream one more time, black smoke coming out of his mouth. But it wasn't a human scream. It was a diabolical scream—a scream from Hell.

"Wh-what happened?" the elder, now in his normal state of mind, said, "Where am I?"

Raanan ignored the man and bent down to pick his fallen brother up. Eyal had fainted, his wings badly torn. He had to be taken to Beulah—immediately.

**-oOo-**

"What do we do now?" Pastor Langston Parker said, inspecting the damage along with the elders.

"We just had our church renovated and beautified," Kevin, Sandy's husband said, "We can't afford another—"

"We'll fix it," Jesse said, running towards the group huddled at the end of the hall.

"Yeah, we'll fix it!" Esther said, smiling, putting her arm around Jesse. "Right Jess?"

"Right," he said, nodding.

"I concur," JF said.

"And I'll help too!" Edmund Prince said, smiling.

"We don't have money to pay you," Romeo Chase Sr. said, trying to turn them down.

"You won't have to. All we need are supplies and we're all set," Dave said.

"We'll work for free."

"We could make it a church project! All of us. Working together," JR Chase added, "You won't have to pay us."

"That's right—a church proyecto! It'll be fun!" John said. All the members of the Youth Group agreed.

"Not a bad idea, actually," Pastor Gene Jones said, rubbing his chin, nodding. "We won't have to pay. Won't have to hire someone. Make it a church group project…"

"When can you start?" Pastor Langston Parker said.

"When can you get the building permit?" Edmund said.

"Two to three weeks."

"Well then—"

Suddenly…

"Jesse? Jesse!" Christina, called frantically. When she spotted Jesse, she smiled, running to him as fast as she could, and threw her arms around him. She held her close—so close he couldn't breathe.

"I'm alright, Chris. I'm fine."

"Oh, thank God! Where've you been all that time?"

"I was hiding in the men's bathroom."

"You scared me."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're safe—that's all that matters."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Hey! Lovebirds!" JF Chase said, smiling, "Let's get going! If you're not hungry, I am. Let's go get some food."

Jesse and Christina laughed, then the rest of the Youth Group, getting in line for lunch.


End file.
